it's elementary, my dear watson.
famous lines from sherlock holmes.
true, there is something elementary in things. that is why there is wisdom in treasuring elementary grade memories. either they stick out as sore thumbs or midas touches that make our present livable and lovable. in fact, what we are now are came from the seeds we have planted long time ago - friendships, camaraderie, and legacies.
such growth doesn't come from facebooks or twitter. they have been planted in our hearts nourished by teaching and mentoring. even memories are great teachers. sometimes, it them we recall and remember.
we carry them thru in high school and college.
but, everything is still elementary, my dear watson.
i mean, miss emma watson of harry potter fame.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
COMING HOME TO LEGAZPI
the old city looks the same.
it has always been even if it slowly changes its face. but it has always been rustic even in its struggle to modernize. embarcadero may triumph over victory village but even this would not hide the truth that the city seeks redemption from the storms that visit the city every year.
maybe old haunts have gone. but i know that there will still be the pinangat stall over there in-front of st. gregory the great cathedral. or the soft biniribid near the old police station.
mornings here are beautiful but the afternoon drizzles puts one in a pensive mood. better to be at the mall to while away the dragging hours.
there are exotic evening in legazpi. maybe, the city has a penchant experimenting menus and delicacies. i remember the nights we've spent in drinking sprees when we were young then.
old friends are gone and i feel like a stranger here. maybe, i've changed. so are my dreams that go beyond the city's boundaries. maybe, i left this city because it cannot contain the visions and illusions i long for in life. perhaps, to be here is to be consigned in a time warp that affects the mind.
perhaps, i have really changed.
that is why, i would only come to visit.
but, never to be permanently be at home.
it has always been even if it slowly changes its face. but it has always been rustic even in its struggle to modernize. embarcadero may triumph over victory village but even this would not hide the truth that the city seeks redemption from the storms that visit the city every year.
maybe old haunts have gone. but i know that there will still be the pinangat stall over there in-front of st. gregory the great cathedral. or the soft biniribid near the old police station.
mornings here are beautiful but the afternoon drizzles puts one in a pensive mood. better to be at the mall to while away the dragging hours.
there are exotic evening in legazpi. maybe, the city has a penchant experimenting menus and delicacies. i remember the nights we've spent in drinking sprees when we were young then.
old friends are gone and i feel like a stranger here. maybe, i've changed. so are my dreams that go beyond the city's boundaries. maybe, i left this city because it cannot contain the visions and illusions i long for in life. perhaps, to be here is to be consigned in a time warp that affects the mind.
perhaps, i have really changed.
that is why, i would only come to visit.
but, never to be permanently be at home.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
THE TROUBLE WITH REUNIONS
observe why a few of us attend reunions.
it is always and has been a showcase of success. those who come have success stories to spin. better still if it is a rag to riches story. it is always difficult to be in-front of former batchmates who are now businessmen, doctors, nurses or professionals. it is easy to say despite all these we are all equals. tell that to the marines.
more humiliation comes when those who have doles out to lesser mortals in these gatherings.
unless one finds a healthy mechanism for reunions, it only becomes a celebration of the few.
isn't it?
it is always and has been a showcase of success. those who come have success stories to spin. better still if it is a rag to riches story. it is always difficult to be in-front of former batchmates who are now businessmen, doctors, nurses or professionals. it is easy to say despite all these we are all equals. tell that to the marines.
more humiliation comes when those who have doles out to lesser mortals in these gatherings.
unless one finds a healthy mechanism for reunions, it only becomes a celebration of the few.
isn't it?
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